


i've fallen four you

by Bronte



Series: Tumblr Fic Prompts [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Four Word Prompts, Identity Reveal, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, M/M, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Prompt Fic, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bronte/pseuds/Bronte
Summary: A collection of four word prompt drabbles from my Tumblr follower giveaway.The ~clean~ version.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois & Sabrina Raincomprix, Marc Anciel/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Lê Chiến Kim, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug)
Series: Tumblr Fic Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751029
Comments: 82
Kudos: 211





	1. I really need you

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my tumblr giveaway! Here's a collection of four word prompt fills for a multitude of ships as requested by my Tumblr followers!

_[Ladynoir, T]_

“Get over here,” Ladybug growls, snapping her fingers and pointing down at the space in front of her, “We need to have a talk.”

“Look, M’Lady,” Chat raises his palms in defense and carefully shuffles forwards, “I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. It was either that or I let you get squashed and then we’d really be screwed—”

“But you didn’t have to get squished on my behalf!” Ladybug snaps back, balling her hands into fist, “You could have moved out of the way in time!”

“It was a giant boulder rolling at a hundred kilometres! I couldn’t exactly outrun the thing!”

“That’s why you run sideways!” Ladybug grabs her ponytails and pulls them in frustration, “How do you not know that?!”

“I didn’t have a chance!”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes you—you know what, I’m not having this argument with you.”

“Good! Because it’s not going to change what happened! I had to sacrifice myself and I will keep sacrificing myself to keep you safe!”

“But why, Chat?” Ladybug begs him, her palms upturned, “Why?!”

“Because without you, Paris would be doomed,” Chat says, finally standing toe to toe with her, “Because without you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I love you, Ladybug, and everyday I wake up knowing that my sole responsibility is to make sure you’re safe and sound and alive.”

Ladybug’s mouth opens and closes, “Chat…”

 **“I really need you,”** Chat takes her hands in his, “I need you here, with me. Beside me. With me always. I love you, Ladybug. I love you so so so so much I can’t even—I don’t even know how else to say it. But I will never stop saving you and I will never stop loving who you are each and every time I see you—mmph!”

Yanked down by the bell around his collar, Ladybug silences him with a kiss that literally takes his breath away. He wraps his arms around her body and hauls her off her feet, pouring his soul, his feelings, his everything into their kiss until he’s shaking, quivering, overcomes with just how much he desperately adores her. She kisses him back just as fervently until they can’t stand any longer, collapsing onto the rooftop they’d been arguing on only a few minutes earlier.

“I’m…” Chat pants, caressing her cheeks as they both catch their breath, “Next time you want to yell at me, can we do it somewhere with a couch?”

Ladybug laughs and it’s like music to his ears, “Let’s find a rooftop patio or something. I’m not done fighting with you yet.” 


	2. I'm not even sorry

_[Marikim, T]_

“Mariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.”

The woman in question takes a weary breath before turning around, “Yes, Kim?”

“Alix called me a himbo again,” Kim pouts, folding his arms across a chest that, quite frankly, rivals the size of the Luxor Obelisk.

“That’s because you are,” Marinette pats his bicep briefly before turning back to her sketching, “And you make a great one. You should be proud.”

“I don’t even know what a himbo is!” he flops down beside her on the stairs and slumps, resting his chin in his enormous palms. Marinette notices his favourite kicks are undone again and ties them into a double knot before he trips on his laces, “Thanks, babe.”

“No problem,” Marinette sets her sketchbook aside and turns to him, her smile indulgent, “A himbo is like…a really nice, beefy guy.”

Kim’s eyes alight, “Beefy? Babe, I can do beefy.”

“I know you can,” Marinette nods, dodging his elbow as he lifts both arms and flexes his muscles for her.

“And I drink my respect women juice,” Kim announces proudly, flexing his pecs in a perfect Terry Crews impression, “Babe, did you see that?”

“I did and I’m very impressed,” Marinette says, her tone a reflection of how many times he asks her that on the daily, “So you know what you should do now?”

Kim zips open his neon green PARTY fanny pack and pulls out his iPhone, raising it above his head in victory, “I gotta tell Alix I’m a himbo!”

“Good boy!” Marinette laughs as her beefcake of a boyfriend jumps up and does his customary three squat jumps for joy, “You tell her you’re a very good himbo, okay?”

“Babe, I’m gonna be the best himbo on the PLANET and **I’m not even SORRY!** ” Kim strikes a full body pose, his bare thighs flexing magnificently beneath his athletic booty shorts, “You watch and see, babe. I’m doing this for YOU!”

“I can’t wait, sweet cheeks,” Marinette shakes her head as he runs across the university quad, greeting almost every single person he passes with his trademark Kim enthusiasm. He may not have been the boyfriend she had envisioned for herself as a kid but he certainly keeps things interesting for her, that’s for sure.

After all, those kind of abs don’t just grow on trees.


	3. Maybe I'm just crazy

_[Marcka, T]_

Marc would have to figure out some way to thank Marinette for introducing him to Luka. This was the third weekend they’d spent together, just jamming and creating prose together, and Marc felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders in a way he couldn’t describe. There was no judgement in Luka’s bedroom; Marc didn’t make jokes when Luka strummed the wrong chord and Luka didn’t criticise the way he mutters to himself when he can’t get a sentence to sound right. It was peaceful, calming.

It was starting to feel like something more.

Now, Marc chooses to be forthcoming with his identity in the hopes that others will follow his lead. He’s vice president of the GSA at his lycée and a few of his classmates have come forward, thanking him for showing them that being genderfluid is something they can be proud of. So while he’s under the assumption that Luka is aware of his identity, he hasn’t actually ever discussed it with him nor does he know how Luka identifies.

And now that Marc has developed a crush the size of the Seine on the blue haired guitarist sitting cross-legged beside him, he’s been itching to ask.

“What’s the matter?” Luka asks, glancing over. He’s not a man of many words and Marc is thankful for that; he writes enough for the both of them, “Your heartsong has changed. You’re nervous.”

Marc gnaws on his lower lip for a moment and sets his Chromebook down in front of him, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“I…” Marc trails off, thinking of the poems he’s written about cerulean eyes and acoustic melodies, “Did you know that I’m…um…”

“That you’re LGBTQ+?” Luka finishes his sentence for him, “Yeah.”

Marc exhales, “Oh. Okay. I just wanted to make sure.”

Luka’s lips quirk at the corners, “And here I thought I was being obvious.”

Marc’s head spins around so hard it cracks, “Huh?”

“I was kind of hoping you’d get the hint,” Luka plays a familiar tune on his guitar and smiles, “As much as I like having you around for inspiration…”

“Wait…what?”

“ **Maybe I’m just crazy** ,” Luka gazes at him sidelong, “But I thought maybe you liked me too.”

Marc’s jaw falls to the ground with a clatter, “You…do?”

“I do,” Luka slides his guitar onto the hardwood beside him, “Do you need proof?”

“P-proof?” Marc’s blood rushes to his cheeks, “You mean—”

Luka leans in and glances down at his lips, his nose only a hair’s breadth away, “Can I kiss you?”

Marc may be the wordsmith of the two of them but today, Marc closes the expanse between them and lets his actions do the talking.


	4. I'm sorry, but no

_[Ladynoir, T]_

Chat Noir’s return back to consciousness is excruciating.

He crawls listlessly through the haze, grappling with his claws for some sort of concrete sensation against the vicious tug that’s wrapped around his ankles, drawing him back into the abyss. The first thing he notices is the splitting headache he feels, pounding forcefully in tandem with every throb of his heart. His cheek scrapes against something rough in texture as he tries desperately to make his mind work and make sense of what’s happened, but he’s in no state to wonder coherently.

The steady hammering of the rain around him only adds to the caustic ambiance of his pounding head, making it feel as if someone’s driving blunt nails into his skull. He moans in the back of his throat and tries to move his hand to his head in order to try and relieve some of the pain and give him some relief. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that he can’t move, even though he can feel his muscles twitch in their effort to jerk up. 

“CHAT!”

He blinks his bleary, unfocused eyes as he tries to gather his bearings. Someone’s calling his name but he can’t make heads or tails of where it’s coming from. He gives a weak attempt to budge from his uncomfortable position and only barely manages to shift his head a little farther to the side, but at least then he’s able to take in his surroundings.

 _Ah._ So that’s what happened.

“Oh my god, Chat!” Spotted feet skid to a stop in front of him and Chat has half a mind to fall back towards the abyss of blessed unconsciousness. Ladybug is here to save him, which means he can finally stop fighting against the undertow of pain and fall back asleep again. Mayura may have handed him his ass today but there would always be his Lady to save the day. He trusts her to toss her Lucky Charm in the air and make things right.

“Go on…” he murmurs into the pavement of the boulevard, “I’ll be…fine.”

“ **I’m sorry, but no** ,” Ladybug hauls his aching body out of the Chat Noir shaped hole he’d been blasted into with all the force of an adult Miraculous holder, “There’s no way I’m leaving you.”

Chat grunts as his response and promptly passes out again.


	5. Please talk to me

_[Kagaminette, T]_

**“Please talk to me.”**

“About what?” Marinette asks, running a brush through her girlfriend’s hair. She’s been thinking about braiding it now that Kagami has let it grow a bit longer.

“About anything,” Kagami responds, watching Marinette through the mirror, “I want to hear your voice.”

“Alright,” Marinette responds, reaching down to grab a few elastics, “Want to hear about the latest akuma?”

“Yes. Tell me about that one.”

“Well, he called himself Vicar Victorious…” Marinette begins, telling Kagami the story with details only Ladybug could provide. Kagami had guessed the identity of the super heroine within days of admitting her affections at their weekly café dates and Marinette had been sharing her adventures with her ever since. Although she could never wield the Dragon Miraculous again, Ladybug had given her the chance to become Nezumi several times. 

“…and that’s how Chat and I defeated him.”

She lets Marinette continue talking and Kagami basks in the inflections of her voice. After so many years of being alone, she loves hearing Marinette’s voice most of all.


	6. You're a terrible cook

_[Marichat, T]_

After a night on the town, Alya has come to fully accept that maybe she’s getting a little too old for parties. Nino’s set is still echoing in her ears as she stumbles up the stairs to her fourth floor apartment in full walk-of-shame mode and hopes Marinette, her best friend and current roommate, is still fast asleep in bed.

Fumbling with her keys is no laughing matter. The jangle of the metal on metal absolutely grates in her ears and Alya clenches her eyes shut in an attempt to wish away the horrible hangover. She’s never drinking brown liquor again if it means having her brain turn to shards of glass and sighs in relief as the pain subsides for a moment, leaving her a few blessed seconds to get the right key in the hole.

“Alya? Is that you?” 

The journalist sighs wholeheartedly, “Yeah.”

“Oh shit!”

Marinette has hardly been known to say a bad word in general, let alone a swear word. Her headache momentarily forgotten, Alya kicks off her stilettos from last night and shuffles into the kitchenette in last night’s party dress only to spot Marinette desperately trying to shove someone behind the balcony curtains.

“He can come out,” Alya intones, too miserable to bother chiding her friend. That is, until the ‘he’ in question pops his head out from behind the fabric and Alya gets a proper look at him.

“I swear, Alya, it’s not what you think.”

Alya gapes like a fish for several long moments, “Is that…Chat Noir?”

“The one and only!” Chat says a little too perky to be natural and he sits back down on the stool he must have just vacated. There’s a bowl of coffee and a half eaten pastry on the plate in front of him, “I thought I’d stop by to keep this princess company!”

Marinette’s face is as red as a cherry cheesecake, “He does that sometimes.”

“He…you…” Alya truly wishes she hadn’t drank away half her brain cells last night, “I’ve been living with you for six months and I’ve never seen Chat Noir here before.”

“You must have been away!” Chat responds, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “I tend to pop in on the weekends, you know, to see what’s new.”

Alya hums, glancing at the two of them through light sensitive, squinting eyes, “Then why are you in your kimono?”

“W-what?!” Marinette immediately grabs the edges of the silk housecoat to better cover herself, “It’s—uh, it’s the first thing I saw this morning!”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Alya’s suspicions flare to life, “You keep it hidden in your drawer along with your other lingerie.”

Chat spits his coffee across the counter. Marinette buries her face in her hands.

“Not only that,” Alya lumbers closer, “You swore to me that you’d only wear it in front of Adrien because, and I quote, you thought it would be ‘the perfect tool to seduce him with’.”

Chat, who had been trying to wipe up the spilled coffee, suddenly begins choking all over again, “What?!”

“It’s not what you think!” Marinette starts flailing, addressing her panic to both her roommate and what appears to be her latest hook-up, “I mean—no, I just—it’s—I’m—”

CPU now completely overloaded, Marinette leaps to her feet and runs into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Both Alya and Chat stare at the space they’d last seen her for several seconds before finally facing each other again, each wearing a matching expression of Marinette-induced bewilderment.

“So did you sleep with her or what?”

Chat blanches, “A hero doesn’t kiss and tell—”

“—just spill already.”

“I…” Chat takes one look at Alya and makes the right decision, “I mean, how could I not? Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous!”

Alya snorts and leans up against the counter, taking a long swig of Marinette’s abandoned coffee, “As long as you’re being safe about it. And Chat?”

The superhero of Paris inclines his head, “Yeah?”

“Two things actually. One, **you’re a terrible cook.** Leave the coffee to me next time, you could stand a spoon up in this. And two,” Alya smirks, levelling him with her dangerous gaze, “Break her heart and I’ll kill you. Got it?”

Gulping, Chat gives her one timid nod, “Got it.”


	7. Alright, I love you

_[Ladrien, T]_

The journey home is quiet. The battle had been less so.

“What were you thinking?!” she’d hissed at him from across the sidewalk as he’d scampered out of his photoshoot wearing nothing but a designer suit. He’d had to remove his ring to wear the gloves that accompanied the itchy formal wear and he’d jumped into the fray regardless, “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“You need Chat Noir!” he’d hollered back, narrowly avoiding a fireball, “I can help!”

“No you can’t!” Ladybug had screamed back, which was the last thing you’d usually want to say to an Agreste, “Go back inside!”

Needless to say, he hadn’t.

So after getting thoroughly berated after getting his ass kicked to and fro by a fiery akuma who had had enough of the ATLA salt on her dash, Ladybug had hauled him into the air and swung him home with a stern expression on her face, positively furious with him. He’d decided it was best to stay quiet for the meantime as well, all things considered; he didn’t particularly feel like being dropped from four stories high onto the pavement.

Once she sets him down inside of his bedroom, she begins to pace the room. He stands still and tries to make himself as small as possible.

“Promise me you’ll never do that again.”

Adrien makes no effort to hide his surprise, “What? You know I can’t do that. We’re superheroes. It’s what we do!”

Ladybug is far from satisfied with his response, “Just promise me you won’t do that to me again. Please.”

The look in her eyes is terrifying; he’s completely caught up in the intensity of her gaze, her eyes shining with the tears that were never meant to be shed. She turns away and glares upwards at the ceiling, trying to blink them back as she inwardly curses herself for her weaknesses. 

The last thing she expects to feel is fingers brushing her hair back behind her ears, beckoning her with a gentleness she’s only ever felt on their darkest of moments. Slowly, she turns back around to face him and finally gives into his urgent touch. She keeps her eyes closed, unwilling to let him see her failing heart, but he finds a way in anyway and smiles at her in a way that both entices and terrifies her. 

“I love you,” he says and she hates the way he can worm his way back into her heart with his everlasting charm, “I love you so much that I can’t possibly explain it.”

“Stop smooth talking me,” she harrumphs and Adrien has the gaul to laugh.

“I know you love me too,” he leans in closer, cupping her cheek in his palm, “We’re meant to be and you know it.”

“Fine,” she grouses, crossing her arms across her chest, “Alright, **alright, I love you** …I guess.”

Adrien laughs and kisses her, dissolving the space between them. She grasps the nape of his neck and holds onto him like he’s the only thing left in the world as her heart races wildly in her chest, her mind a flurry of unkempt emotions. His hand comes up to touch her cheek, brushing back the errant strands of hair that always seem to fall in her eyes and the other encases her back in his embrace, drawing her nearer to him. He smiles against her lips and gently pulls away after a while, meeting her eyes before losing himself in them entirely. 

“Sorry, M’Lady.” He presses their brows together and buries his fingers in her midnight hair, “That’s a promise I just can’t keep.”


	8. I believe in you

_[Adrienette, T]_

“There’s absolutely no way I can do this,” Marinette wrings her fingers over and over again, the perfect picture of anxiety incarnate. Adrien, having anticipated this exact response, hands her an _Orangina_ and beckons her to take a drink.

“You’re an amazing designer, Marinette. You deserve to stand in the spotlight for once,” he replies, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He can feel her knees quaking and takes a deep breath, willing her to breathe along with him, “Your first fashion show went perfectly. Even my father couldn’t pull off a runway show all on his own like you did today.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” Adrien answers, pointing towards the curtains, “Listen. Do you hear everyone out there in the audience? They’re calling your name.”

Marinette guzzles down half of her drink, barely tasting any of the orange and the bubbles. Adrien’s right of course; everyone who had shown up for her final project in Visual Arts (which had been most of the school, actually) were chanting her name at the top of their lungs from the bleachers.

“Come on, Marinette. You can do it,” Adrien says, giving her a little push forwards, **“I believe in you.”**

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” Adrien graces her with a million watt smile, “Go out there and show them who you really are.”


	9. I can’t trust you

_[Mariblanc, T]_

It happened again. But this time, Bunnix hadn’t come to stop things. 

Marinette squares her shoulders and approaches the boy of her nightmares, “You have to trust me, Chat. I know what happened.”

 **“I can’t trust you,”** he hisses, proverbial hackles raised. He’s perched beside a gargoyle on _Église Saint-Merri_ and Marinette has dropped her transformation in the hopes that he will be more gentle with her, “I can’t trust anyone.”

“You can trust me,” Marinette holds her ground, reaching out for him, “I know who you are, Chat Noir. I know what your father did to you.”

“I’m not Chat Noir,” he snaps back, his teeth flashing behind his snarl, “I’m not anything like I used to be.”

“If that were true, you would have hurt me by now,” Marinette responds, shaking her head, “I know how you feel, _Chaton_. And I feel the same. I love you.”

Chat Blanc’s pupils grow wide, “What?”

“I love you,” Marinette really doesn’t feel comfortable without the safety net of being Ladybug; one misstep and she could fall from the rooftop of the church to her demise, “I’ve loved you for a long time. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

“You’re just saying that to hurt me,” Chat Blanc’s face pinches with rage, “You’re just like him!”

“I’m not anything like your father,” Marinette crosses her arms across her chest and hardens her gaze, “And quite frankly, I’m insulted that you would compare me to _Le Papillon.”_

Chat Blanc winces, “…sorry.”

“You should be,” Marinette harrumphs, “Now come here. It’s too dangerous for me to come closer to you like this.”

“Then transform,” he spits, glaring at her.

“And have you attack me? Not a chance, _mon minou._ You come to me.”

“No.”

“No?” Marinette smells a ruse and jumps on it, “What if I did this?”

Stepping close to the edge, Chat Blanc tenses, “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” she responds, dangling one foot over the eaves, “And if you don’t catch me, then I’ll know for sure that you’re not my _Chaton_.”

“Don’t!” Marinette ignores the warning in his voice and swallows nervously, balancing on her heels as her toes hang off the roof, “Marinette, stop!”

“Catch me if you can, Chat.”

And with that, she jumps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Don't worry, he catches her!)


	10. You love me, right?

[Ladynoir, T]

He turns and soaks in the brightness of her smile. 

It’s evening and Chat takes another step forward, learning to walk again. It’s difficult, but he’s unperturbed. He’s surrounded by support, by the gentle eyes of those who mean the most to him, and it only makes him stronger. 

It hadn’t started out that way of course. He’d faced his worst fears within the catacombs of his own home and defeated Father before promptly crashing and burning. His reaction to the media frenzy hadn’t exactly been crafted with the deftest of pens, but the thought was there. 

The thought was always there.

And she’s there of course; she’s been there since the beginning, and the respect she’s shown him in the wake of all this never fails to astound him at every turn. She bites her lip every time he stumbles but refrains from intervening unless he really oversteps his bounds. She knows his future is at stake here. 

He catches himself most of the time. Sometimes he feels like throwing caution to the wind and telling Paris why he’s really angry, but he doesn’t. There’s no need. The ground won’t drop out from beneath his feet. Not this time.

Sometimes he wonders what Father must think of him. He sees him on the news from time to time, always from a distance. The uncomfortable silences are gone, and a sort of composed quiet has become the newly accustomed atmosphere of his now empty home. He doesn’t mind. In fact, he kind of likes it.

Outside of the mask, he’s the tragedy of the century. He’s stopped, prodded, prompted, pitied, praised. It gets on his nerves, but sometimes it’s nice to be treated as a person rather than an object of Father’s image. It’s like he was somebody else back then, and looking back on himself is another person entirely. Like a blotch on the records, replaced with another page. Like a crack in the hull of a ship repaired. He’s still undecided on his feelings concerning the violent, sharpened turn his life has taken and he tries not to dwell too much on the past.

He restrains himself from scratching at his neck, a habit of his when he’s frustrated or driven too hard. He takes a few more steps, and suddenly she’s out of his range of vision. He can feel her stare on the back of his skull, and he wonders if her expression has changed. She tries so hard to school her features when he’s watching, but she’s more or less obvious in her emotions. She wears her heart on her sleeve, so to speak, and he knows it.

“ **You love me, right?** ” Chat asks, standing on the brink of a whole new world. It’s still the same old Paris, of course, but there’s something fresh about the way the breeze tickles his nose.

“To the moon and back,” she responds, weaving her fingers between his. 

He smiles and quickens his pace; he’s never been known to take it slow.


	11. I’m not doing this

_[Tikki & Plagg, T]_

**“I’m not doing this!”**

“Doing what?”

Marinette climbs up from her living room with Adrien and a plate of pastries in tow and discover that they’ve just interrupted an argument, “What’s going on here?”

“Tikki is trying to get me to eat that!” Plagg sticks his tongue out and points to it, gagging.

“He’s overreacting,” Tikki holds the macaron in question above her head, “It’s tasty!”

“She’s trying to poison me!”

“I am not!”

“Am to!”

“Am not!”

“Am to!”

Adrien and Marinette share the kind of exasperated look that comes with years of practice, “What’s so bad about this macaron? You’ve eaten them before.”

_“I absolutely have not!”_

“Yeah you have,” Marinette sits down on her chaise and Adrien follows suit beside her, “There was that time M. Damocles was akumatized. Then there was the time we switched Miraculous at Montparnasse and I had to recharge. And then there was that one day when Adrien ran out of cheese because you ate it all when you should have been rationing it.”

“You’re—that’s—” Plagg sputters, having been caught red-handed, “I’m not appreciated!”

Adrien rolls his eyes, “Yes you are, Plagg.”

“No I’m not! I’m going to—”

Plagg’s cries of indignation die on his tongue by a kiss on the cheek by the kwami of creation, rendering the now blushing kitten speechless. His eyes bulge out of his head as Tikki gently pats him on the head and smiles.

“We appreciate you very much,” she coos, kissing his other cheek for good measure, “Now, why don’t you and I go catch the last of the sun? I think these lovebirds have some gaming to do.”

“Uhh…” Plagg blinks owlishly, then follows his magical counterpart up to Marinette’s balcony without another word.


	12. So it was you

_[Kagaminette, T]_

**“So it was you?”**

Marinette hangs her head and hopes her kindness hasn’t backfired on her (again), “I thought…I thought you would like it.”

Kagami stares at the page in her hand, her expression entirely unreadable. Marinette, having had nothing else to do during her time in lockdown, drew a portrait of Kagami based on memory and digitized it, colouring it with beautiful pastel shades of turquoise and pinks. In the picture, she’s smiling and holding a glass of Orangina in her hand inside a technicolour café.

Kagami had printed it off immediately after receiving it through her secret email. She didn’t recognize the address and she certainly hadn’t given her secret correspondance out to anyone but her very closest friends.

“It’s beautiful,” Kagami finally speaks, setting the picture down, “But why didn’t you send it to me through your own email? Why did you try and deceive me?”

“I…” Marinette trails off, unable to make eye contact with Kagami via Facetime, “…I was afraid you wouldn’t like it.”

“You drew a picture of me,” Kagami responds, her stare burning a hole through the screen of Marinette’s mobile, “It’s only natural that I would be curious about who drew it. Adrien can’t draw. Ami draws people as anime characters and none of my competitors are talented in the Arts. You were the only person left.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette wishes the floor would swallow her hole, “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You did not. The drawing is beautiful. I never thought I looked like that through your eyes,” Kagami explains and Marinette shudders at the intensity in her voice, “Please be honest with me next time and if you ever wish to draw me again, I would be amenable to being your muse.”

Marinette’s cheeks bloom with colour, “O-okay. Sure. Yes.”

“Don’t hesitate,” Kagami says, a hint of a smile on her lips, “Or else you might miss your opportunity.”


	13. You don't want me

_[Kagaminette, T]_

“Can I help?”

Marinette tumbles back to the real world with a jerk and a cry, spinning around to find Kagami standing only a few scant centimetres away. Limbs sprawled and balance forgotten, Marinette leaps into the air and promptly begins to fall.

“Your lack of coordination is strange,” Kagami mutters, catching Marinette easily around the waist before she careens down the stairs, “Considering what you’re capable of. Is it an act?”

Blood rushes to Marinette’s cheeks as she scrambles to recover, “W-what? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kagami plucks Marinette’s smartphone from her hands and takes the picture Marinette had been trying to take herself, “Here. Is this the angle you were looking for?”

Speechless, Marinette glances at the screen in Kagami’s hand and nods.

“Good. Next time you need help, just ask,” Kagami hands her back her phone, “Why are you taking a photo of him anyway?”

Marinette stumbles over her excuses for nearly forty seconds before Kagami finally has enough and puts a finger to her lips, “Think before you speak. Take a deep breath and focus.”

Already the unseemly colour of a tomato, Marinette’s face turns an even deeper shade of plum. Kagami inhales and exhales, encouraging Marinette to do the same, and eventually the younger girl finds the composure to speak, “I was…investigating.”

“Whether or not you think Gabriel Agreste is Le Papillon? It’s feasible, certainly,” Kagami nods, noting the rare appearance of the reclusive designer overseeing the final set designs for Paris Fashion Week, “But I thought he was akumatised?”

“Mayura’s powers could have mimicked an akumatization,” Marinette responds before catching herself, “I mean, I—no! I was just taking a fashion shot! I—”

“I’m talking to Ladybug, right?”

“What? Nooooo! That’s crazy, you’re—”

“If **you don’t want me** to know, you’re too late,” Kagami frowns, “Your identity has been obvious to me for awhile. It’s no use lying to me.”

“I…” Marinette trails off, her voice failing her. Kagami stares at her like she’s seeing into her soul and Marinette’s powerless to do anything but warble as Kagami reaches for her hand and holds it.

“Your secret is safe with me,” the fencer tips her head to the side, eyeing her counterpart appreciatively, “I never thanked you for giving me the chance to become a hero. I would like to make it up to you.”

“You…” Marinette gulps, “…you would?”

Kagami nods, resolute, “Would you like to go for ice cream with me?”

“I…” It’s only now that Marinette realizes Kagami is still holding her hand. Her grip is strong and Marinette draws her lower lip between her teeth, chewing it thoughtfully.

It only takes a moment of consideration, “Sure. I know just the vendor.”


	14. You're such a bitch!

_[Chloé & Sabrina, T] -_ _This is such a NOTP for me LOL_

Sabrina finally had enough.

She’d been Chloé’s lapdog for as long as she can remember, doing her dirty work for years. She’d spied for Chloé. She’d stolen for Chloé. She’d even trespassed and had almost gotten caught for Chloé.

But this?

“I can’t,” Sabrina said, putting her foot down, “I am absolutely not going dumpster diving for your iPhone.”

“Uh, yeah you are,” Chloé scoffs, crossing her arms across her chest, “It’s not like it even matters. Your clothes are garbage anyway.”

Sabrina looks down at herself and feels her blood pressure rise; she’d picked out this dress specifically for her date tonight and there was no way in hell she was getting it dirty because Chloé had a temper tantrum and threw her iPhone down the trash chute.

“I’m not climbing into a dumpster and that’s final!” Sabrina’s hands ball into fists, “Get one of your employees to do it!”

“And risk the press hearing that my 24k gold iPhone touched other people’s trash? Utterly ridiculous. Come on, go step on that box and get in there, I don’t have all day.”

“Well I do!” Sabrina yells, stomping her foot, “I need to go somewhere after this!”

Chloé has the gall to laugh, “No you don’t. Your life is serving me! Oh, and by the way, I didn’t do the essay for tomorrow’s history class so I’m going to need you to go home and do that for me once you’ve gotten my phone out of this disgusting dumpster.”

Sabrina seethes. Her date is probably waiting for her at the café where she was supposed to be five minutes ago and for the first time in her entire life, Sabrina finally has the balls to say it, **“You’re such a bitch!”**

“Pardon me?” Chloé doesn’t even deign her with a second glance, choosing instead to check her manicure, “Get my phone, Sarina. I have things to do.”

“Actually, you know what?” Sabrina pulls out her own phone and quickly confirms that she’ll be there in a minute, “No. I’m leaving. I have a date with someone who actually knows my name.”

Chloé rolls her eyes, “Please. No one would want to date someone like you when they could have someone like me.”

But Sabrina doesn’t stick around long enough to respond because there’s another beautiful, headstrong blonde waiting for her over croissants and lattes just down the road. Aurore may be prideful and a little arrogant like Chloé, but at least the girl actually had a heart. And tonight, Sabrina was going to post it on Instagram Live for everyone to see.


	15. You think you're funny?

_[Ladrien, T]_

“And then all of the sudden, Chloé walked into the classroom and saw the entire class losing their minds over Alix’s video of Kim doing that new TikTok challenge, right? And you know what Chloé can be like sometimes, she gets soooo mad when he’s gets more attention than she does,” Adrien snickers, grinning from ear to ear as he tells Ladybug all about his crazy day at school from where they’re both sitting on the couch, “And then the TikTok changes and it’s Marinette who’s doing the challenge! And it was so funny! She was so good at it!”

“That sounds really funny,” Ladybug says with a smile, hoisting one of her legs up so she can sit criss-crossed on the cushion, “What did Chloé do next?”

“She was so furious that she tripped up the stairs to her seat and spilled her Starbucks Frappuccino everywhere! You should have seen her face, Ladybug. It was priceless!”

“Too bad no one took a video,” Ladybug responds, glancing sideways.

“That’s the thing,” Adrien braces his hands on his knees and leans forwards, “Alya was videoing the whole time! And then she sent it to all of us! Want to see it?”

Ladybug nods eagerly, having already watched the video a hundred times since she got home from school that afternoon, “Oh wow, she really did spill her Frappuccino everywhere.”

“Talk about a strawberries & crème catastrophe,” Adrien leans forwards, his eyes sparkling, “I guess she didn’t have a _grande_.”

Ladybug rolls her eyes and groans, “ **You think you’re funny** , don’t you?”

“Oh come on, give it a _chai_ ,” Adrien nudges her with his elbow, coaxing a smile out of her, “What’s _Sumatra_? You don’t like my puns?”

“I like it better when you use your mouth to kiss me,” Ladybug giggles, batting him away.

“Don’t you ever want to _expresso_ self with puns?” Adrien buckles over, clutching his stomach, “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

“Good,” Ladybug scooches closer and presses a kiss against his cheek, “Because as much as I don’t like puns, I really do like you a _latte_.”


	16. I don't want this

_[Ladyblanc, T]_

_[Ehh…it ended up being Chat Blanc & Ladybug. Oops!]_

This time, Ladybug walks into a vastly different alternate future than the first. This Chat Blanc hasn’t destroyed the moon and flooded the world; this time, he makes the Second World War bombings look like child’s play.

“M’Lady,” he greets her as she lands on the rooftop across from him, kicking his legs to an absent rhythm as the sirens wail all around, “What brings you to my wasteland?”

“Bunnix,” Ladybug responds cautiously, taken aback by the passive posture of the akumatized partner in front of him. Even slumped over, she can tell he’s quite a bit taller than her own timeline’s version.

“Good. I was hoping she would,” Chat sighs and a fireball explodes in the distance behind him, bathing the charcoal skies in crimson and soot, “ **I don’t want this.** I never wanted it.”

Ladybug sits down opposite, too wary to move any closer, “Why is that?”

“Father is Le Papillon,” Chat Blanc explains, chilling the ice in her veins. Would Bunnix let her keep this knowledge when she returns to her own timeline? “He wanted to control me. He showed me why he was doing what he was doing and I…I went crazy.”

Ladybug’s voice barely carries on a whisper, “What happened?”

“He akumatized me,” Chat Blanc gestures to his stark white suit, “And turned me into this. I can’t detransform.”

“How long?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. A couple weeks? After I blew up my home, things…got hazy.”

Ladybug glances around her. The entirety of the arrondissement she’d found him in is abandoned and charred and burnt-out cars litter the streets, “How did this happen?”

“I used my powers and…obliterated half the place,” Chat Blanc stares blankly towards the glowing horizon, “My _cataclysme_ just keeps spreading and spreading…”

“Do you want me to make it stop?”

“Please,” Chat Blanc points to his bell, “I don’t want your Miraculous. I just want it to be over.”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, “But you’re akumatized. Of course you want my Miraculous.”

“Not really,” Chat Blanc finally glances her way, his blue eyes piercing, “There’s no Le Papillon left to give it to.”

“You…” Ladybug’s breath is stolen from her lungs as Chat Blanc leaps to his feet and appears in front of her in an instant. He looms overtop of her, his expression frightening as the flames of another explosion reflect against his pallid skin, “…did you kill him?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he pulls her to her feet with an ease that far surpasses her own supernatural strength and sets her down in front of him, “It just kind of happened. A lot of things just kind of happen here.”

It only takes her a moment to make her decision. She snatches his bell from his collar and smashes it under her foot, releasing the butterfly. She purifies Paris and doesn’t look behind her as Bunnix manhandles her into her portal, leaving that alternate universe behind.

“Learn anything interesting?” Bunnix asks as she scans through the multiverse to find this particular Mini-Bug’s timeline, “You look a little…perturbed.”

“I died in that timeline again, that’s all,” Ladybug lies, taking refuge under the metal mixing bowl. No one needed to know the truth of what she’d really learned…

…yet.


	17. I'm not wearing that

[Adrien & Plagg, T]

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“You don’t like it?” Plagg sniggers, enjoying every second of his wielder’s torment, “But it was made especially for you, Adrikins!”

“Shut up,” Adrien’s eyes widen in horror, absolutely triggered, “I can’t believe Chloé actually went this far to one up Marinette.”

“It gives a whole new meaning to green with envy,” Plagg phases through the horrid, neon green patchwork of fabric fashioned vaguely into the shape of a long sleeved shirt. Adrien cringes and sets it gingerly back down on his bed beside the Bourgeois gift bag he’d pulled the monstrosity from.

 **“I’m not wearing that,”** Adrien shakes his head and takes a wary step away from the thing, “It’s not going to happen.”

“But it’s Chloé’s birthday!” Plagg singsongs, cackling uncontrollably, “And she made it especially for you! You have to!”

“Nope. Absolutely no way.”

“Suit yourself,” Plagg grins, his fangs glinting dangerously in the light, “But don’t count on me to save you when she wrings your neck.”

“I hate you,” Adrien grumbles, approaching the heinous green atrocity masquerading as a “gift” from his childhood best friend, “Do I seriously have to put this thing on?”

“Mmhmm. Did you know she invited Ladybug to her birthday party too?”

 _“Merde,”_ Adrien buries his face into his palms, “Ladybug’s going to see me wearing _this?”_


	18. This was never right

Tikki spits out the cookie she’d just popped in her mouth all over Marinette’s comforter, “ **This was never right** to begin with!”

Plagg gags a little at the sight, “What, the recipe?”

“No, the fact that I trusted you to make it!” Tikki responds, wiping her tongue off with a tissue from Marinette’s side table, “What did you _do_ to the raspberries?”

“Ehhhh…” Plagg shrugs his shoulders, “Nothing _too_ serious.”

The sun suddenly seems to shine a little brighter outside and her kwami counterpart gulps as the temperature ratchets up ten degrees, _“Plagg!”_

“Alright, alright,” Plagg waves his paws, “So I thought it said blackberry, not raspberry, so I turned them black!”

“Ugh,” Tikki throws herself against Marinette’s pillow and groans, “This was supposed to be for her birthday, Plagg! She was counting on us!”

“On you, you mean,” Plagg’s toothy grin gleams in the light, “I just came down because I’m getting sick of seeing them slobber all over each other.”

“They’re kissing, Plagg.”

“They’re drooling all over each other’s faces,” Plagg corrects her, shivering for good measure, “Anyway, have fun fixing those cookies. I’m out of here—”

“Not so fast,” Tikki snags him by the whiskers and yanks, bringing him within a hair’s breadth of her face, “You are going to help me fix these cookies or so help you.”

Plagg senses the temperature rise again and decides he’d be better off safe than sorry, “Err…whatever you say…Sugarcube.”

_“Plagg!”_


	19. You look really tired

_[Ladynoir, T]_

**“You look really tired.”**

“That’s because I am,” Chat grouses, crossing his arms over his chest. Between the photoshoots and his final year of studies, not to mention all of the ass kicking he does to akumas on a nightly basis, Chat is about ready to keel over for a week, “I need a vacation.”

“Mood,” Ladybug nods her head and rests it on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. There’s an unspoken familiarity between the two of them, always toeing the line between affectionate and too affectionate that pulls on Chat’s heartstrings, “I’m kind of tired too.”

“We should just…” Chat trails off, “…I don’t know, catch the first train out of here and get out of Paris for a day.”

“I like that idea,” Ladybug muses, tapping an absent rhythm against her knee, “We could play tourist in our own country. Maybe go to Lyon or Strasbourg.”

“I’d be down for either,” Chat turns his head slightly and inhales, breathing in the familiar smell of her shampoo, “We could go see all of the famous buildings.”

“Or go on one of those touristy river cruises.”

“We could wear disguises. Big sunglasses and hats.”

“And oversized sweatshirts. No one would notice us.”

“It would be perfect,” Chat murmurs against the crown of her head, “We should do that together one day.”

“Yeah…” Ladybug tips her chin upwards and Chat shifts his head back, their noses a hair’s breadth from one another, “Do you think we’ll be able to leave one day?”

“When we defeat him, I’ll take you anywhere in the world,” Chat replies, aching for the press of her lips on his, “You want to go to China? I’ll take you there. Brazil? Pack your bags.”

Ladybug smiles, her eyes softening, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“You can count on it, M’Lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed all of these little drabbles!
> 
> Follow me at ao3bronte.tumblr.com for more!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> Follow me at ao3bronte on Tumblr for more of my sparkling wit and everlasting charm.


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